The Party's Over
by AnnaEndedTheWorld
Summary: COMPLETE: Coffee, cute blonde, slightly obnoxious boys, and more coffee. What's a girl to do? Socialites (aka: Rory and Logan). AU Post I Jump, you jump, jack.
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Party's Over

Summary: AU, post I Jump, You Jump, JAck. Rory still loves Dean, right? But someone else has caught her eye, and is pretty intent on staying there... (Socialites). Also L/L

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Ok, so I realize that i have a million other stories to update, but i like this one. Logan is sooo hot. Review guys, and if you have stories about Logan, please include it! Don't you just love the banter?

Oh, also -- I know that Rory and Lorelai had a conversation about the whole Luke/Gilmores thing, but I changed it to fit my story.

Review!

* * *

Part 1:

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

Cue, young, slightly-annoyed, very exhausted girl picking up her phone.

"You saved me from the crazy gorillas."

Lorelai paused, standing in her closet. "Well, I was calling you to complain about the way my mother treated Luke, but if you're being chased by rabid gorillas, I'm all ears."

"No, not… jumping…" Rory struggled to leave the REM cycles in favor of the daylight world, where her mother currently resided, obviously perk after who-knew how much coffee by – Rory checked the clock on her bedside table – 8:30 AM. "I was dreaming about gorillas jumping off of buildings. Very Mary Poppins meets King Kong."

"Rory," Lorelai gasped, pausing in pouring herself coffee. "Have you finally become a rocker and dropped acid? I didn't think they actually had acid at Ya-ale."

"Oh, they have everything at Yale," Rory said, rubbing the images from the other night from her eyes. "What's up? What did Grandma and Grandpa do this time?"

"Even gorillas?"

"Especially gorillas. Don't try to distract me from what you called me about at this early in the morning."

"I couldn't contain my story anymore. Although you, apparently, have not been telling me things. If I knew there were gorillas running around campus and jumping off dorms, then I would not have let you go to school there."

"Mom… it's 8:30. I will tell you my story when I am fully awake in 2 hours. Now, spill. What did Emily Gilmore say?"

"Oh, the usual. She insisted that I reintroduce her to Luke, pretended to be nice for the first five minutes of dinner so that Luke suspected me of being paranoid, and then well – I got to say I told you so when she attacked him."

"You said I told you so? Wow, I don't think you've been this happy since Celine Dion announced she was retiring."

"It was fun. Though not enough to numb the sympathy I felt when Luke went golfing with Grandpa, who proceeded to turn the diner into a franchise, and Luke into an art and rare coin collecting, golfing, straight-shaving man."

Rory rubbed her head. "Well, tell Luke to put one of his diner's right near Yale. It would be great to get a real hamburger around here."

"Ok, gorilla time."

"Want to meet for coffee at like, 5 at Luke's? I'm too tired to tell you."

"Tired? An illicit meeting with a gorilla, perhaps?" Rory could hear the glee emanating off of her mother's voice.

"Oh, go gloat to Luke about how right you were. Your voice is missing some of its usual caffeine-perkiness."

Lorelai sulked, contemplating the end of her endless-cup of coffee in her kitchen. "I hate how you're always right. It makes you less fun than you should be."

* * *

Well, whaddaya think? I have more, no worries, but I am holding this story hostage until I get reviews. (Cackles). Also, don't worry -- Logan makes an appearance, very, very soon. Kinda a consolation prize for having bush in office for four more years. dear lord... going to go wallow.


	2. 2

A/N: Well, here i go, updating. I'm doing a double update tonight.

And don't worry -- Logan will be here soon ;)

**Part 2**

Rory struggled to replace the phone it its cradle, somehow missing each time. Finally managing it, she closed her eyes, ready to embrace a few more hours of gorillas, and conversation lacking the letter e. And Logan, though for the sake of her sanity he was too far ensconced in her dream for her to remember his being there.

Riiiiiiiiiiiing.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

"I told you, go gloat to Luke – "

"Good morning, Rory. I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."

"Hello, Grandma." Rory looked at her clock. 8:45. It was a bad time, but it wasn't worth arguing over when she knew it would only fall on deaf ears. "How are you?"

"Fine, just fine. I had the pleasure of meeting Luke two nights ago. Such a pleasant man, though why he runs that rustic diner of his, and has that rustic old car, I have no idea. Your grandfather took him out golfing, where I heard he did much damage to the cart and course. I guess he never learned how to play golf, what with having to run that diner of his, and making sure no one got poisoned."

"Mom told me already."

"Well, I suppose you want to know why I am calling you. Your grandfather and I have buried the hatchet, so to speak, for the time being. We are hosting a little soiree in your honor – nothing large, just a small dinner party for some friends and business associates who are Yale alumni. It's high time we do something like this."

Rory, was, despite her exhaustion and aggravation with her grandparents, touched. "Grandma, thank you so much. That's so sweet of you guys. And it's always good to meet friends of yours, especially because I'm looking for an internship with a newspaper this spring or summer."

Emily, taking a sip of tea, smiled to herself. "Oh, I'm sure we can scrounge something up. The dinner will be tomorrow night. It's a bit more fancy, dress wise, so why don't I pick you up this afternoon after your classes are over? We could go find you something."

"That sounds great, Grandma, expect I promised Mom I'd meet her for coffee. You're welcome to join us, though we will be at Luke's, and I'm not sure if you're willing to take that risk." She heard a high-class sniff on the other side.

"Oh, well then I suppose you and Lorelai will have to find something. Something formal though, and we will pay for it. See you tomorrow night then, at 7."

"See you tomorrow night. Say hi to Grandpa for me. Love you."

Finally, Rory thought, pulling the covers over her head. No more phone calls.

* * *

"Well?" Lorelai prompted her.

Luke's was empty, which was unusual, but helpful. He was sitting at the counter, looking over some scary sheet with numbers on it.

Rory smiled. "Remember that secret society I told you about? The Life and Death Brigade?"

"Oh yes. Did you meet Joshua Jackson? Because if so, I'm ashamed with you. I want my Dawson's Creek CD signed."

Rory didn't respond, knowing that her mother was mocking her. Giving her a look, she continued. "Well, I got an in. There's this guy, Logan –"

Her mother's ears peaked. "A boy? My wonders! And here I thought I sent you to a girl's only school, Annie." Seeing Rory's look, she stopped. "Oh, you like said boy. What about Dean?"

What about Dean, thought Rory. It had been troubling her since Logan had dropped her off at her dorm last night. Who was he in her life? Where did he fit? Logan and Dean did not fit together, in the same world, to be sure. But what about her world? What were she and Dean to each other? Did she love him? Or was she afraid that, by letting go of him, she would completely lose who she had been in high school?

"Oh, this is serious. Hmm… is Logan cute?"

"Very, in that – really full of himself, snobby, Master and Commander sort of way."

"He looks like Russel Crow? 'Cuz he's not cute, he's just old." Lorelai froze, then stared at her. "He's not a teacher, is he? Please don't tell me you're turning into Paris."

"No, that's just his attitude about life – he told me to call him master and commander. But he's really smart. And fun." Rory proceeded to tell her about everything, the blindfold, the tents, the strange boys who didn't speak with e's – "You and I should try that sillyness," Lorelai interrupted with – the dress, the jumping, his telling her that life should be more exciting…

"And now we have to go dress shopping because Grandma and Grandpa are having a dinner party for me."

"I wasn't invited," said Lorelai. "But it's ok, me and golfer have a date tomorrow night. We should go find you that dress though, since, knowing my parents, its black tie compulsory."

Luke harrumphed, looking up from the scary paper. "You running low on caffeine? That name isn't as annoying as you were aiming for."

* * *

stay tuned for logan time!


	3. 3

A/N: So I've been hearing that my chapters are too short -- therefore I'm posting IT ALL. so far. I'm hoping to be done with this fic by tuesday, before the episode actually airs.

Also, quick note to Sarah: Though I don't apologize for my comment about Bush because it is my opinion, I shouldn't have advertised it in my story. I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable, and I hope it doesn't stop you from reading my story.

* * *

She loved the campus at night, especially in the fall. Pausing, Rory breathed in the smell of leaves, coffee, and old-world ambition as she walked back to her dorm. Her mother had promised to drop off the dress – a black, glossy number (a la Audrey Hepburn as Lorelai had put it) -- at the Gilmore's, which Rory knew was because she wanted a peek.

"Shouldn't a good girl like you be in your dorm at this hour?" Logan stood before her, grinning, hands in his back pockets. White sweater. Really, really yummy looking, as usual. Which of course, Rory didn't notice. She didn't like snobby, rich blondes.

Riiiiiiiiiiiight. Keep telling yourself that.

"I'm in my dorm. This is only a dream. I was never here." She retorted easily, glad for the dark that could hide the blush that was blooming. Why did she have such a crush on him?

"Well, in that case, may I escort said apparition back to your dorm? Although I don't usually go to bed quite this early, so I must be having a waking dream."

Rory contemplated. "Will we be jumping off of any more buildings, and can I use the letter e?"

His grin widened. "You may." She walked, and he moved his hand, placing it at her back, which warmed dramatically.

"So, how's the story going?"

Rory froze. "Oh, crap. I promised Danny I'd have it to the copy editor this morning."

Logan laughed. "Well, I'd be willing to take a detour to the paper office, since I'm dreaming, anyway." He turned with her in the opposite direction. Rory tried not to notice how alluring his confidence was – even in changing direction.

The moment was jarred by Rory's cell phone. Moving away, she reached into her pocket – noticing that he did as well. He glanced at it, flipping open his phone.

"I didn't realize that you were a fan of the Beach Boys," he commented, before answering.

"What? Colin, what are you saying? You're talking too fast for me to understand you. Yes, I'm with her right now," he said, glancing at Rory, who was visibly shaken by their having the same ringtone. "Why?" Obviously something Colin said peaked his interest, because his grin became even wider. "Well then, I guess we'll have to get our suits dry cleaned, after all. Yeah, see you in a bit." He hung up, and turned to Rory.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing. What are you doing tomorrow night?" he asked, switching topics.

"Oh, my grandparents are having this dinner thing for past Yalees," she said, realizing how said it sounded that she was spending a Friday night with her grandparents.

"Funny, I'll be spending tomorrow night with some family members as well," he said. "But I still can't believe you're a fan of the Beach Boys. I didn't take you for a follower."

"I guess my dream self is just contributing to your further education. You should tell your parents tomorrow, to rest assured – their hard earned money is being used, even when you sleep."

Standing in front of the newspaper office, he caught her hand, pulling her towards him.

The first kiss was soft, and sweet. Not what she had expected – she had thought he would be groping and insensitive, but in a way it was just as sweet as her first kiss with –

Rory pulled away. "I'm sorry, I can't, I have a boyfriend." Dean. Was she just about to cheat on him? What had happened to her?

Logan just smiled. "Really. Was it that bartender? Because it didn't seem like you were interested in him that way, though I have been known to be wrong. It's rare, but it happens." He continued looking at her in that arrogant way of his. Inside, he was yelling. What?! A boyfriend! She had a boyfriend?!

Rory was thrown for a moment. "Marty? You think Marty likes me?" Then. "Oh. No, he doesn't go to school here."

"Where, then? Harvard? Columbia? U Conn?" He laughed, easily covering up his surprise with his snobbery. She had a boyfriend?, he thought again, unable to leave that circle of questions. Since when?

Rory, who had the unexplainable urge to lie, forced herself to tell the honest truth. She had no reason to try and impress him. "He's not in college. He works."

"Oh, a blue-collar boy. That must be fun." Logan smiled a bit more easily. "Well, I'm off to finish this sleep off. Have fun writing your article." He walked away, then paused and turned. "Oh, and Rory? See you tomorrow night."

* * *

Friday morning found Rory, asleep over her desk at the paper's office, hair pooling over her keyboard.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

Riiiiiiiiiiin –

"What?!" From now on, she was unplugging her phone before she went to bed – except that she wasn't in bed, per say.

"Rory? What are you doing asleep? It's 11:30, and I thought we had plans." Dean's voice sounded slightly desperate.

Rory looked up at the clock on the computer – why was she at the – oh, yeah.

"I forgot to get my article done yesterday, so I ended up crashing at the office writing it this morning."

"That article you had that made it so you couldn't do dinner on Wednesday?"

"Basically." Rory rubbed her eyes, and closed them. Maybe when she opened them again, she would be in her dorm, in her bed. Opened them. No such luck.

"Well, you'll have to tell me about this article, sounds like an interesting story." Dean chuckled. "Anyway, you can make it up to me – I rented You've Got Mail, because I figured you and Lorelai haven't torn that one apart enough yet. And I figured I could fix the porch light, if Luke hasn't." Rory smiled to herself, biting her lip – it was sweet how hard he was trying to make things like they used to be, back in high school.

Back in high school, when she hadn't kissed Logan. Crap.

"Dean, I can't." The guilt was nauseatingly sweet. "My grandparents decided to have a dinner party, and I can't get out of it. And…."

"And we both know how well me and your grandparents get along." She heard him sigh. "When are we going to see each other Rory?"

Silence.

"Ror?"

"Look, Dean, we'll figure it out. I need sleep though, otherwise I'm going to die on my way to my grandparents, and then you'll only see me again when you say goodbye to me in my casket. And I'm not willing to be a Princess Di." What was wrong with her? She was sounding like Lorelai.

"I love you."

"You too."

Rory struggled to find the print icon. She grabbed the article, dumped it in the box labeled copy, grabbed her coat, and walked out the door.

Sleep, finally. And maybe not worrying about the guilt over having kissed Logan. And the fact that she wanted to do it again.

* * *

"Oh, Rory, you look just beautiful." Emily stood at the bottom of her majestic staircase, hands clasped in excitement and pride. "Richard! Richard!" She turned around, looking for her currently estranged husband. "Oh, there you are. Doesn't Rory look absolutely breathtaking? Although I wish she had let me take her to find a dress."

Rory inwardly rolled her eyes. She personally thought she and her Mom had done a great job – the dress was understated and Audrey Hepburnesque, like her mother had promised, only accented with an elegant line of pearls at the neck.

"Yes, she does look beautiful," said Richard.

Silence. Neither grandparent could look at the other.

Emily broke the silence. "Well, I just want to make sure everything is set in the kitchen before the guests arrive." She began to walk away.

"Emily—" Richard looked uncomfortable. "Shouldn't we…"

"Oh, yes – yes." She stopped, and smiled at Rory, while Richard handed her a small, black jewelry box.

"Oh, Grandma, Grandpa," she said, smiling. "Thank you so much."

"Oh go on, open it already," said Emily.

The box contained a set of small, square cut diamond earrings. Rory froze, overtaken. Acting impulsively, she reached out and hugged both, being careful not to trip over her dress in the process.

"They're stunning -- thank you so much, for everything. Really -- Chilton, and Yale, and the party, and -- you have both been so good to me." Rory noted that with each emotional word, Richard and Emily looked stiffer and stiffer. She smiled. "I'll just go upstairs and finish getting ready."

As she departed, Richard and Emily looked at each other -- the tension between them became more clear. It was guilt, not just lack of comfort around emotion and gratitude.

"Emily, she has no idea -- she thinks this is just a dinner. She doesn't understand that were introducing her to eligible young men."

Emily sighed. "Well, what are we supposed to do? Sit around while she dates that Dean? You remember what he was like."

They stood together, not looking at each other, but only at the stairs. Too much was riding on this for them -- Rory was their legacy, and tonight had to be perfect for her.

"Well, I'll go make sure that everything is ready." With that, Emily left Richard standing at the stairs, staring at an old picture of Lorelai on the mantle.


	4. 4

A/N: I'm in one of those moods, so this chapter is going to be very different then the others. Hopefully, you'll like it.

Thanks for my reviews.

**Part 4 (Rory's POV)**

* * *

Somehow, you aren't surprised when you see him.

It didn't take you long to figure out your grandparents' "dinner party". After about 3 introductions:

"This is Dr. and Mrs. Bennings. And this is their son, Max. Max is majoring in business at Harvard."

"These are the Tanningtons. And Jason -- how's the premed program at Princeton?"

"This is Kip. He's a perfect pedigree - graduated magna cum laude from Oxford, lettered in three sports, great in bed, and no receding hairline. Don't worry about the wedding, we'll take care of it."

Well, not the last one. But those were the words you heard coming out of Emily's mouth as you tried not to turn red with the embarrasment from your realization -- this was husband shopping. And you were the customer.

As if your life didn't embarrass you enough.

Embarrasment and anger turned to bleak understanding. Somehow, you tell yourself as you make an excuse to get away from another suit clad prodigal son, and down your second glass of champagne, they found out about Dean.

"Oh Rory, Rory," you hear as Emily calls to you shrilly. You turn, ready to meet another handsome, rich, snob. Which you do, technically. He is rich, extremly snobby. And handsome doesn't begin to cover it.

But you have met him before.

His gray eyes question you with amusement as he reaches out and shakes Richard's hand, compliments Emily on her home. His parents -- the infamous Mitchell Huntsberger and wife, media deities -- smile at you benignly. And you remember his comment the night before, and inwardly kick yourself for not paying attention.

"Rory and I know eachother, of course." He says, smiling at Emily, and then smirking at you when they aren't looking. "We work on the paper together. Actually, I provided her with the scoop for her last article." This time, his smile is extremely multifaceted. You remember the extactic rush of the air as you fell to the ground, your hand in his.

How does that song you? Nobody knows it, but you've got a secret smile, and you use it only for me.

Like that smile he gave you after he kissed you. That smile holds too much in it, and it sucked you in way to quickly. It's sucking you in now, even though you have a relationship -- though confused and clandestine.

Even though you know the only product of this little experiment will be a broken heart.

You bravely smile back at him and his parents, while you think of Jess. There is more than one way of being emotionally unavailable. And at least Jess wasn't an elitist snob.

Well...

You interrupt your thoughts by speaking aloud. "It's so wonderful to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Huntzberger. If you don't mind, I would love to probe your thoughts about journalism."

They smile at you -- Mr. Huntzberger, 1/2 indulgently and 1/2 interested, and Mrs. Huntzberger 1/2 warmly and 1/2 desperately, like you are her son's last chance.

After Mr. Huntzberger responds by asking for you to call him and set up an appointment -- "We'll talk shop," he says. "I always have internships available in the summer, and it's not as if Logan would ever stoop to actually doing work." -- you let Logan lead you away, his hand pressing into the small of your back.

The champagne-induced giddiness steps up a notch as he sits you down on the couch. Suddenly, lots of young men surround you, and you are tempted to call your mother. This would make Lorelai's night. Then again, she would never let you live this one down.

They talk, you talk, he talks. Everyone talks for ice cream. Instead, dinner is served, and you once again find yourself being guided in a seat between Logan and Kip. Logan is flanked on his other side by Colin and Finn, who somehow materialized in the last half hour, sans gorilla masks, of course.

You can't seem to concentrate on what Kip is saying to you -- all you can see is Logan, watching you. He never stops smiling, except to lick his lips every once in a while.

You can't ever remember having wanted to kiss someone so badly.

Dinner passes by in a blur. Distantly, you realize that you are not acting like Rory. You are floating in the sky, somewhere, ready to jump back down with a black umbrella. You never are so apart from yourself, feel like your only observing your life.

You never flow with the go.... you are also rarely this drunk, you realize.

Logan, winking at you, rises and walks off. You remember him mentioning something about finding a bathroom. A few minutes later, you make an excuse, and follow.

You note, distantly, that everyone is watching. Everyone knows. However, your grandparents beam at you; Colin and Finn grin knowingly. Even the maid seems approving.

This is your destiny, after all. It's been a while since your heart has been broken. This is your world now, and if it does not work with Logan, it will work with someone else.

You begin to realize how your mother felt when she fell in love with your father. Trapped, and bemused.

Logan stands against the wall, smiling at you. He reaches out to take your hand, and you no longer feel trapped.

Your free falling when he kisses you.

* * *

Hope this worked! This will be done tomorow, but review. 


	5. 5

A/N: To those who didn't like/ were confused by the last chapter, let me quickly explain: Rory doesn't feel trapped by Logan, she feels trapped by everything else.  She's getting caught up in her grandparents world and mundane life, and Logan's the antidote to that.

Also, sorry I didn't finish pre-episode, like I thought I was going to -- but fanfic was down on Tuesday, and then life took over.  This will go AU from the episode, although I'm sure I've been subconciously influenced by the episode.

This chapter is Logan's POV. (And I for one, would love to get inside his head. ;) )

* * *

Part 5

"I might have to get you drunk more often," you say, pulling back after what had seemed like a 12-hour kissing marathon.  Your heart is pumping faster than it did when you jumped off that scaffolding a week ago.  Your hand doesn't leave her face, and you wonder if maybe the reason why you feel more lightheaded from kissing her than you have felt from kissing any of the billions of girls you've kissed is because Richard Gilmore's liquor has a little something extra to it.

"My head's spinning.  But I think that's just from the alcohol..." she starts, smiling at you, biting the lower lip that you just molested. 

"I thought I told you to call me Master and Commander," you chide as a response to her light-hearted barb.  Your confidence mounts, as does your grin.  You know that you made her head spin.  Why this means so much to you, however, is a different story.   

You both hear voices in the hall, and she pulls back from you, straightening her hair, refusing to look at you.  Colin and Finn walk up.

"Where have you two been for the past half hour?  Dinner's over?" Colin searches your faces.

"Oh, we know where you two have been.  Rory, I don't know how you could break my heart like that," Finn grins, offering Rory an arm, and escorting her to the sitting room.

Once there, Rory flops onto the couch, tucking her feet under her like a little girl.  Finn makes jokes, while you stand, sentry-like, smiling down at her.  She smiles back, and you realize that, seeing as you haven't had alcohol in over half an hour, your buzz should have started to fall away by now.

You decide to nickname this new high you've discovered _Ace_. 

_Ace_ shatters when you hear the Beach Boys ring tone.  You know it can't be your phone; it's in your coat, in the coat room.  Rory looks at the name on her phone, and her face falls. 

"Hey," she says quietly.  Then, "Wait, where are you?  Wh -- " she's interrupted by whoever is on the other line.  "Ok, I'm coming right now," she tells whoever it is, and then hangs up. 

She stands, fixing a strap on her dress that seems to have fallen halfway down her shoulder.  She refuses to look you in the eye.

"Well, who was that?  Your infamous mother?" Finn quips, sprawling out on the couch.  You know, by the hunched shoulders and the resolute look in the distance she has that its not that easy.

"My boyfriend," she states, and the ground comes rushing up to meet you. 

Yup, stone cold sober.

You smile, hiding your confusion, and your anger underneath easy banter and arrogance.  Hiding your emotions is your area of expertise, after all.

"Well, let's all go out and meet him, then.  I'm curious, aren't the rest of you?" 

Rory starts to say something, than stops, obviously confused by your indifference.  What right does she have to be angry?

You follow her through the hall and out of her grandparent's, Colin, Finn, and about six other guys behind you, laughing easily about nothing at all.  Emily, speaking to your mother, smiles when she sees you -- obviously the two of them assume that you are the winner of this little auction. 

Rory opens the door, revealing a guy standing by a Jeep, arms crossed over his chest.  His eyes narrow when he sees you. 

You didn't think it was ever possible to feel this sober.  But you are, presented by the boyfriend. 

Someone who actually presents more than a challenge.  You expected someone slightly dorkier, someone that probably mirrored her high school days -- booksmart and slightly wimpy.

Instead, the boyfriend is your average tall, strong, good-looking blue collar guy.  He obviously can offer her something you never could, even if you wanted to -- simple, hardworking reality. 

Rory walks up to him, and they speak... whatever they say to each other hurts them both.  You strain your ears, but you can't hear anything -- you can't see Rory's face, but you can feel her slipping away from you. 

You obviously don't have enough to offer her, and that kiss was only a drunken experiment on her part.

But then he gets in the Jeep, and drives away, leaving her staring straight ahead.

You walk up to her, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder.  She turns to you, and she is crying. 

You have nothing to offer her, you realize.  Even if you two try this, you would probably end up breaking her heart as well. 

Which doesn't stop you from breathing easier -- you hate seeing her crying, but at least you know this guy is out of the picture. 

"Come on," you offer with bravado.  "Let's steal some dessert, and then we'll drive you back to school.  A girl like you shouldn't be out this late, anyway." 

With that, you lead her back into the house, your hand pressing into her back -- the closest you'll get to her for awhile, you think.

But when she offers you a slight smile, you use a thumb to wipe a tear off her cheek and realize that the game's not over yet, even if the party is.

It's only yet begun.

* * *

Fin!  (short, I know, but i didn't know where to go with this.)

I may write another, but not for a while, I have to work on my Roswell story first.


End file.
